


Down, Around and Through

by BluntBetty



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alice in Wonderland References, Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gen, Granger Enchanted, Hermione_Smut Round 7, Looking Glass, Love, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2018-01-03 00:54:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1063741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluntBetty/pseuds/BluntBetty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione’s on the outs with her fiance, but luckily Luna has a solution: gifting the witch with a huge, gaudy mirror. Can falling arse-first through the looking glass put Hermione’s life back together? For hermione_smut Round 7!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Down, Around and Through

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot bunnies.  
> This was for Granger Enchanted/hermione_smut LJ exchange round 7.

1\. Down

Hermione tilted her head to the right, her face scrunched in indecision. She stared a moment longer at her own image before calling out to her friend in the next room. “Luna? Are you sure about this?” Luna's dreamy face and body draped in flowing purple robes flowed into the frame of the large mirror. There was still plenty of reflection to spare, even with both of their bodies side by side.

“I think it's a great addition to your bedroom, Hermione. Don't you like all the extra space it seems to give off, without all those extra enlarging charms?”

The brunette nodded, albeit reluctantly. The mirror they were currently staring into was framed in a French inspired rectangle of carved wood, with a taste of the baroque style found in the detail. It was carved from a dark rosewood and leafed in a rosy gold, which was something Hermione tried to object to when Luna had pulled it from her purse and enlarged it. It just didn't fit in with anything Hermione owned already, after all. But the witch had insisted quite passionately and Hermione relented and let her friend move her room around in order to make the mirror work.

“It just...Doesn't it make me seem a bit narcissistic? Like I love looking at myself all day long?”

Luna just snorted beside her, cast the final sticking charm so the beastly thing wouldn't slide and crash into a million pieces, and leaned against it.

“It's a lovely old thing, Hermione. You'll hurt my feelings if you keep trying to find excuses to refuse it.” She smirked at Hermione's frown of concern. “Besides, how lovely would it be to watch you and your partner make love in front of it?” she sighed dreamily.

Hermione flushed at the thought. “If you've forgotten, there won't be any love making here, let alone in front of the mirror, for some time. My fiance broke up with me.” She stepped back to her bed and gracelessly fell back onto it, her eyes shut tight. By the mirror, Luna sighed.

“Give him time. I think he scared himself, that's all. What's the muggle saying? Cold toes? Feet? It's only been four days and from what you said, he didn't sound like he broke it off, he just wanted to think on his own.”

“Who's side are you on, anyway?” muttered Hermione. Immediately, she sucked her bottom lip in and nibbled on the flesh. Luna just giggled.

“Yours silly. But if I have to help you see the light, then so be it. The kettle is about to go off, let me go get the service?” Just as she finished, the kettle whistled loudly, causing Hermione to jump in surprise.

When she sat up and opened her eyes, Luna was already in the other room, the sounds of cups and biscuits far off. Absently, Hermione stared into the mirror, mind wandering back to Luna's suggestion. Her mind conjured the image of her fiance's strong arms encircling her waist, hands coming to kneed her breasts, his grey eyes flashing with lust. While Luna came back into the room and set the service on the writing desk, Hermione still struggled to get her breathing back under control and cool the red visible on her cheeks. She only just got herself under control when Luna came back into the room and sat the tray on the nightstand.

“Let's have ourselves a small tea party, then,” said Luna, clapping her hands together. “Then I'll be off, my shift at the bank starts rather late, tonight. Bill and I are cleaning out a cursed vault.”

/*\

An hour later, with Luna gone and the dishes cleaned, dried, and put away, Hermione found herself in front of her large and ostentatious gifted mirror, staring at it with thinly veiled skepticism.

“Luna's crazy to think I'd need something like this,” Hermione whispered to herself, running a hand along the carved wood. Despite her rather raunchy suggestions, she added mentally. Her fingertips slipped and hit the cool glass, but instead of feeling a solid, slippery surface, the mirror rippled like water. Her fingers dipped in an inch or two before she pulled them out, startled. Taking a step back, Hermione started at the mirror, eyes wide.

“What the hell have you given me, Luna?!”

Whipping around to find her wand and perform some diagnostic spells, she missed the errant pair of shoes laying of the floor and tripped. Trying to twist herself right, Hermione found herself sinking arse first into her new mirror, ripples dancing on the surface as she disappeared into the apparent doorway.

“No no no!”

Hermione heard her cries echo out into the blackness surrounding her. And it was truly all she saw, pitch black. She knew she was falling, but her gravity seemed suspended, almost as if she'd been taken into space, the air around her cool like an autumn breeze. Despite being blinded, she could feel that there were other things in this...room...with her. Some were soft like cotton, others hard and grained like wood, one particular item very noticeable as she hit her elbow on the hard surface, causing her to jerk and hiss in pain. Immediately, her gravity came back to her and she plummeted to the ground in a graceless heap.

Groaning, Hermione squeezed her eyes shut tighter, shuddering at the cold temperature of the floor under her. Taking a moment to catch her breath, Hermione then let her eyes flicker open and take in the surroundings.

A small rounded room, the floor made of black and white checkered tiles, the walls wallpapered in a white with floral printed on them. And next to her, an elegant wood table with potion bottle and a baker's box on top. No doors for an exit or entry and the ceiling was full and solid looking, making it as if she had Disapperated in. With that thought, Hermione quickly checked herself for any signs of splinching, letting out a relieved sigh when she found herself intact and not missing any vital parts.

Slowly, very much aware of her bruised bum, she stood and walked the walls of the room several times, looking for a hidden door and finding nary a crack or hollow portion. With a sigh of defeat, Hermione wandered back to the table and looked down at it in frustration. A potion bottle and a bakery box. With a note on the table and tags on each...

“That note wasn't there before!” she said accusingly. With the note snatched up in her hand, her eyes raced across the page, drinking in the words.

Look down.

All the way down, silly.

With a sniff, Hermione looked down at her feet to the checkered tile and found nothing. Her eyes scanned the floor of the whole room, finding a blip in the rose patterned wallpaper on her right at the very bottom of the wall. Quickly, she slid across the floor and bent over, finding a tiny door with a tinier doorknob. The whole opening was no bigger than her fist, and she was doubtful she would even be able to get that in there.

“Shite!”

Hermione didn't have her wand and was too afraid to try any shrinking or enlarging charms wandlessly yet. She only had basics down and was still working on the more advanced spells. Hopes slightly dashed, she went back to the table to read the other notes left by the items. She took the tag off the potion bottle and read, Drink Me.

“'Drink me?' In the magical world, listening to inanimate objects can get you killed!” she scoffed, ready to knock the bottle over and try her hand at enlarging the door anyway. But something stilled her hand, insisting she read the tag on the box as well. With yet another sigh, she ripped the tag off and saw, Eat Me.

“Really, now?”

Not sure what else to do, she grabbed the bottle and box and took them with her to sit on the ground in front of tiny door. She would snack as she figured out how to open the blasted thing, get back to her apartment, and hunt down that odd Potter, nee Lovegood. Legs crossed and settled, she sat the box on her lap and flipped open the lid to find small biscuits. Choosing a wafer, she plucked it out of the box and sat the thing to the side, tapping the treat to her lips as she thought about the best approach for her door dilemma.

She took a tiny lick of the wafer to try the flavor and let out a surprised eep! as she grew four feet in size.

“NO! No no no!” She looked down in horror as the door was even tinier now and she towered over the table at nearly ten feet tall. She dropped the treat in disgust and glared at the box, letting out a sob in the process. “Why me?!” she moaned, dropping her face in her hands. She kicked a toe at the box, sending it skidding across the floor, before bringing her legs up against her chest tight.

Between her fingers, she spied the tiny tag that rested in her lap from earlier. She snatched it up and, having to use both hands to hold it close for her to read, she squinted at the scrawl.

Drink Me.

With a large frown, Hermione looked around for the bottle, and found it nearly lodged in the door jam, most likely from her fit a moment ago. Thankfully, the glass was unbroken and the clear liquid inside still swished around, full. Gently, she used her nails to uncork the bottle and let a few drops hit her tongue. Almost instantly, she found herself once more her usual stature, back where she started.

“'ey now, lass! Calm down and take a mo'. Use a little logic and you'll be able to use me!”

Hermione nearly dropped the bottle, quickly corking it before she spilled any, and looked around for the source of the voice.

“Who's there?”

“Me! Down 'ere, girl!”

“Hagrid?”

“Don' know who that is, but I am here, at the door. I'm the keeper o'keys. Or, I was, til someone lost the key. So now I just watch the door.”

Hermione got on her knees and looked at the door, noticing that the door handle was speaking to her. In Hagrid's voice, no less.

“Oh, Merlin. I hit my head. I'm dead in my apartment. I'm hallucinating. This isn't real,” she babbled, falling back onto her already bruised bum.

“Nonsense! Use them there biscuits and stuff to fit through the door and you'll do just fine.” The door tried to perk her up, oblivious to the small panic attack she was having.

He grew quiet, which Hermione was thankful for. It gave her a chance to process what was happening to her and how to handle it. After a few minutes, when she had her breathing under control, she looked back to the box and crawled over to fetch it. With both items in front of her, she started to make her deductions.

The snacks made her grow. The more she ate, the bigger she would most likely get. Thus why, when she'd licked her treat, she'd grown only a few feet. If she'd eaten the whole thing, she supposed she would have most likely filled the room.

The potion made her shrink. A few drops, two or three, had brought her back to her normal size, give a few centimeters or so. So if she took enough to coat the tip of her tongue, would it shrink her enough to fit through the door? And if she drank a mouthful, just how small would she become?

Keeping a larger biscuit in one hand, Hermione uncorked the bottle once more and swallowed six drops of the clear liquid. With a squeak, she was tiny. So much more tiny than she thought. But she would definitely fit through the door. Quickly corking it back again, she pocketed the bottle and went to open the door.

“Be careful out there, girl. There's some strange things roaming!”

Nodding a thanks, the door swung open and just as she turned around to close it, it slammed shut on her, locking, and leaving it impossible to go back through. She huffed in annoyance and glared at the door nob.

“Sorry! Wasn't me!”

Hermione glared at the door and tried eating her snack to make herself large again. When it didn’t work, she could feel the dread crawling up from her belly. She was still small.

“Oh dear, she's stopped the magic again! She must be 'aving a fit...”

“Why aren't I growing!? Isn't that how it was supposed to work?” Hermione threw the snack to the ground and looked back at the door.

“Yes...” he began. “But the queen...She gets upset and she controls magic, so... No magic right now. It might work later...?” he sounded incredibly doubtful.

Growling in frustration, Hermione stalked off towards a patch of tall grass, ignoring the talking doorknob, uncaring as to where she ended up. It was only as she kept finding rocks and tiny twigs all her size to trip on, she realized finally the she had no shoes on and that the forest of grass was actually incredibly dark.

“Bugger!” she huffed, sitting on a particularly large boulder (that would have most likely only been a pebble in her normal size). With her excitement and sudden growth changes, on top of the sudden stop in momentum, Hermione found herself extremely tired. “If I'm dead or passed out, maybe taking a nap here will get me to wake up or at the very least get me to heaven or hell or whatever is waiting for me,” she muttered, curling up on the rock, letting sleep invade her senses.

She wasn't aware of how long she actually had slept, but when she woke up, she was aware of a set of eyes on her, watching. Waiting. She started awake, rolling off her rock in fright, landing in a graceless heap and a loud groan.

“Are you trying to figure which way is up?”

Righting herself so she could see properly, Hermione glared over her shoulder at one George Weasley. Except George didn't seem very Weasley-ish. His face was harsher, less boyish and more angular like a man who had seen the world's ugly side. The vibrant red locks he usually wore shaggy, in part to hide the missing ear from the war, were now gone, his head cropped short, nearly shaved down. His normally kind, warm brown eyes were dark and empty, only a sliver of curiosity toward Hermione was the only sign of life behind them.

“G-george?”

His eyes narrowed, then he stood from his crouching position and jumped down to face Hermione. “How do you know my name? And where did you get my Miniature Macaroons?” There was no room to skirt around his questions, he locked his eyes with hers and waited.

“We went to school together, you prat,” Hermione went to smack his chest, but his hand stopped hers and held it tight. She tugged but he didn't give. “And I found them and had to use them to get out of that odd room.” She tugged again and this time, he let go. Mostly in surprise at her words.

“The room...?” He frowned. Shaking his head, he added, “Whatever. You'll need the antidote if you want to get back to your normal size.” He paused to think. “I assume this isn't your normal size?”

“Of course not.” Hermione pulled a face. “This size is ridiculous.”

George snorted. “Says you.” He pulled out a small biscuit and took a bite. Immediately, he grew to what she assumed was his usual height, even back home. He looked down at the tiny Hermione and grinned coldly.

“But! But my biscuits don't work! Please, may I have some?” Hermione had to nearly scream at the top of her lungs to make sure he heard her. Her heart was climbing up her throat, she was so scared this crueler George would stomp on her without batting an eyelash.

George exaggeratedly pretended to consider it, crouching down to look right at Hermione. “Hmm, no. I don't think so. I don't have many that that blasted queen can't control and I won't waste any on you.” He paused at the tears that threatened to spill from Hermione's eyes. “But. There is someone who can brew you an antidote to your tiny little problem. You need to go to him and he'll consider helping you.”

Hermione sniffed and tried to wipe away the evidence of her tears. “Ah, and which way do I go for that?”

George shrugged, grinning ruthlessly.

“How can you not know if you know of him?!” Hermione stomped a foot, face turning red.

“Look at it this way, if you don't know where you're going, any road can take you there.” Abruptly, he stood his full height and looked down at Hermione, the shadows of this George's face gone for a moment. And in that moment, she swore she could see her George. The one who was full of mirth and doses of melancholy at times, who loved to help others and make them laugh. But as he straighted out his dusty brown jacket and met her eyes, the shadow returned and he was this colder, harsher George once more.

“Wait!” Hermione called, just as he started to walk off. He didn't turn, but did pause. She took that as her cue. “Do...Do you have a brother? Fred?”

His shoulders stiffened, his body like a statue. Slowly, his head turned and he glared down at her. “Once. The queen took care of that.”

And he was gone, disappearing into the woods that reached far beyond her tiny view.

In a huff, Hermione folded herself to the ground and sat, annoyed at her situation. When she deduced glaring at the scenery would get her nowhere, she took a deep breath. Scrubbing her face with her hands, she quickly made up her mind, gathered up her bravery, and stood. With another deep breath, she set out deeper into the grass in a direction most random, and hoped she was run into someone or something that could get her to this man who would maybe help her.

 

2\. Around

At some point, Hermione realized she was probably walking in circles. The tufts of grass and the rocks all kept looking like they were the same every now and again. Eventually, she decided to leave a trail of crumbs from what was in her pocket, but after that, the more she walked, a thick smoke curled around her legs, hiding the ground all together.

“What. Are you doing outside myhome?”

Shrieking in fright, Hermione jumped and whirled around to look for the source of the voice. Seeing no one, she took a few steps farther, before a command shot out of the smoke.

“STOP! You bloody fool. You'll crush the plants and then they'll be useless.”

The smoke in front of her curled to the side, clearing a path, one safe for her to walk on. Taking it as an invitation, she followed the cleared ground to a large, flat rock. Atop the rock, a dark robed man stood in front of a cauldron, stirring with calculated movement, his eyes flicking between her and the simmering brew in front of him.

Hermione couldn't do anything but gape, eyes wide and she looked up.

“You're here to speak with me, correct? I assume you ran into that twin and that is how you found me.”

Hermione bit her lip. “I didn't quite know how to find you. I just ended up here.”

Severus Snape stirred his cauldron three more turns counter clockwise before resting the glass rod a moment, and then carefully lifted it out of the liquid. When he was satisfied with his project, he turned and gave her his full attention.

“What do you want?”

She gave him an incredulous look, as if it should be obvious. “I want to be my normal size!”

“What exactly is normal?”

“Certainly not being just a few inches tall! I'm much bigger than this, you bat!”

Severus hmmmed, his face showing nothing. “Is that all you wanted, then?”

“YES!” No, no, wait!, her brain told her. Let's go homeeeee!

“The twin could have easily done it for you. Was he being stingy, I wonder?”

Hermione made to answer, but was cut off.

“Of course, if I help you with your desire, you will have to give me something in return.”

Once more, Hermione made to speak, but found her voice failing. She found it hard to form coherent sentences in her brain and all her mouth wanted to do was blab garbled gibberish. The smoke around her thickened, tickled her skin. Above her on his rock, the man was bottling his brew in a purple glass container. Her heart sped up, realizing her limbs were so incredibly heavy.

Severus, or, Hermione realized, the man who looked and seemed much like him, made his way slowly from the rock and to her, eyes taking her in like a hunter with his prey. Gracefully, he slipped the bottle into her pocket, uncaring about the panic in her eyes over her immobility and speechlessness. Once it was tucked in securely, his had slid slowly up her arm and back down before taking her hand and squeezing it.

“I am the reason why you can't move. Don't worry, you silly girl. I won't do anything to you. But I need you to listen and your aura tells me you aren't good at listening in times like this. You'll do to keep your temper.”

He waited until her breathing calmed and she looked at him with guarded eyes.

“Take the potion once you leave my little hideaway. Not before. If you see a house meant for a white haired creature, keep walking. You're due for tea and it won't do at all for you to be late.”

Hermione could feel her eyes drooping, the smoke making her incredibly sleepy. Her knees gave out and she felt the man gently lower her to the ground, keeping her from hitting her head. She felt him pluck something from her other pocket, the potion bottle from the room early that day...

“This will be my payment. I've always wanted a bit of that twin's magic. And remember...”

His face leaned in closer to hers, his words ghosting over her ear in a warm breath. And she slept.

/*\

When Hermione woke up once more, she was alone, the small hideaway cleared and no sign of the potion master was to be found. Worried she'd passed out in her walk or hit her head, her hand immediately went to her pocked and found the purple bottle he'd gifted her. Breathing a sigh of relief, she stood, brushing off the dirt and grass from her clothes. Looking around, making sure she was truly alone, she ran out of the man's spot, into a clearing of nothing but dirt, and uncorked her bottle. With one small gulp, she found herself her original height.

And feeling incredibly hungry.

“Bother. When on earth do I wake up? I can't be dead, my stomach wouldn't ache this much if I was dead,” Hermione muttered.

At her proper height, Hermione was able to see much more than before. And it was how she spotted a well worn path. Using her famous logic, she deduced that it would lead to someone who could feed her. Proper food that didn't use shrinking and growth charms on her poor body, which wasn't feeling the effects yet, but they would come. Perhaps whenever she woke up. She started to run over to the path, but stopped, startled. She had expected the harsh and sharp digs of rocks and wood bits.

Someone, the Severus she'd just met, she assumed, had given her shoes. Plain, simple leather shoes, but they were loads better than being barefoot, she decided. She smiled in small thanks, and resumed her run to the path, which wound in and out and through the forest she assumed George had disappeared in earlier.

She didn't think she'd walked a mile through the wooded area before she realized she had no idea the time nor how long she'd actually been...wherever it was that she was now. “I'm going crazy, not knowing the day or time. Completely mad,” she muttered, rubbing her forehead.

“Don't worry, 'Mione! You can't help that! We're all mad here. You're mad, I'm mad,” a voice called from behind a large boulder.

Perplexed, Hermione squeezed around the giant rock and stumbled upon a large table set for a tea party. Almost all the seats were empty, save a sleeping, hiccuping George at the very end, a few fellows Hermione didn't know, and Luna sitting at the head, her roaring lion's hat perched atop her head.

It all looked like the most queer tea party Hermione'd ever seen.

“Don't worry, Hermione. I'm myself. The others, not so much.” Luna smiled serenely and sipped at her tea. Her hat purred.

“Luna?! You're...you?”

“Of course! Well, I'm different than I was yesterday, I'm a completely different person from then. But the Luna you know and love, yes, I think. That's what I told the mirror to do, anyway.” She patted the spot next to her and Hermione took the seat, accepting the cup from her friend.

“What did you do?! Where am I?”

Luna smiled and stirred the new cup she'd poured herself. “I didn't do anything. You fell through too soon, that's all. But it's working out well, I think.”

“What are you on about?” Hermione sipped her drink. It tasted the same as always when Luna made it. A tad too strong.

“Am I going on and on? Terribly sorry, I'll stop.” She grinned into her cup.

Hermione slammed her cup down, which stirred George from his nap. He lifted his upper body from the table, swaying a bit and muttering, before collapsing back down with a loud snore.

“Hermione! Manners! We have guests!”

She blushed at being reprimanded by the starry eyed girl, and apologized quietly.

“Hermione, we need to get you back home. The only way to do it is for you to go through a portal made specially for between this world and ours. It's called the Pool of Tears. It's at the castle.” Luna pointed behind Hermione and sighed.

Swiveling in her seat, Hermione looked and saw a looming castle made of deep red bricks. It looked impossibly scary.

“Where am I?”

Luna looked at her friend like she was dense as a door. “Wonderland.”

And then it clicked. Hermione had to choke back a sound, a mixed laugh and sob. “You found Wonderland?” she wheezed, coughing into a kerchief Luna handed her.

“Wonderland found me. I've been visiting for years, Hermione. But I think the important thing to take away from all of this is that you're just too logical and nargle-brained to be here. I'm sorry, but once I get you through the Pool of Tears, I'm going to have to seal off your mirror. You can keep the mirror, of course. But we'll keep our girl time to the flat or the shops, I suppose”

Hermione blinked at her friend, stunned.

Ignoring Hermione's lost expression, Luna stood and looked around. “You didn't see my Knave, anywhere, did you?” She didn't wait for an answer before calling out, “Harry! Harry! Please come out, we'll need you!”

Harry in full armor came from the shadows of the trees and stood next to Luna protectively. He showed no recognition when it came to Hermione. Something that she was sadly getting used to from all the people she ran into. “Yes, Luna?”

“We need to go up to the castle. Hermione needs to get through the Pool.” Luna bit her lip in thought. “And I think it's time we do something about the White Rabbit, as well, when we get there.”

Harry bowed solemnly. “When you're ready, I'll wait by the roadside.” Luna nodded and gave him a warm smile before he walked away.

Turning back to Hermione, Luna noticed her eye twitch. She sighed a laugh and took off the headdress. Shaking out her hair, she looked to the brunette. “You're acting like you've seen a ghost.”

“No one recognizes me. It's been a lonely day. I'm just glad this isn't real.”

“Just because it isn't our real doesn't mean it isn't real!” Luna exclaimed, taking her hand. “Dreams, realms. Wonderland, Magical Britain. What's the difference? Can you really tell me which is real, which is made up? And you can't tell me sometimes you wish reality was anything but!” She pulled Hermione up and they made their way to meet with Luna's Knave, Harry, ready to head up to the castle.

/*\

“Wait! There's a chance I may DIE trying to get to this Pool of Tears?!” Hermione's voice rose several octaves, the threat of death startling her.

“Yes. We're sneaking in. It's in the Red Queen's castle and she has it guarded. She may or may not behead you, one of us or all of us if we're caught.” Harry explained, eyes scanning the area near the castle. They were approaching quickly and Hermione had some last minute questions about this quest Luna was dragging her in on.

“Luna! Do I really die or is it like a video game? Do I wake up in bed at home or am I truly dead??”

Luna's lips pursed in thought. “Not sure what a video game is, but then again, I'm not sure on the outcome of this, either!” She laughed softly. “Oops! Those nargles must have started to swarm around me as well!”

Hermione groaned and pressed her forehead on the brick of the outer wall they were walking along. It's all a dream, it's all a dream. It has to be, she chanted to herself. When she peeled herself off the wall, she found the Knave watching her, face blank. Staring back, and ultimately winning their unspoken match, Hermione watched the mostly silent knight as he moved his eyes to watch over the smiling Luna, who was watching the guards with a keen eye.

Even in Wonderland, Harry couldn't keep his eyes off of Luna, it seemed.

Hermione was startled from her thoughts when Luna spoke up. “My Knave will take us to the weak point in the wall ahead. I think it is a hidden rabbit hole that eventually opens in the gardens. The Pool is tucked in there.”

Hermione sputtered out in realization, eyes wide. “Rabbit hole?!”

“Yes, of course. This way.”

 

3\. Through

A strangled sound came from Hermione's throat when they came up from the hole and poked their heads from the rose bush. Luna had to clamp a hand down on her mouth to hush her, blending the noise with the shout in the courtyard. Ahead of them, the Red Queen held an audience while playing croquet with puffskeins. Not only was Hermione horrified at the treatment of the colorful balls of fluff, the variety of familiar faces that held court was a shock.

The queen's sycophants were various Slytherin and Ravenclaw classmates, Ron, Dean, and Neville stood as guards, spears with large blades at the ready. The queen herself was Lavender Brown, golden curls piled high on her head, her outfit of red silk and lace sculpted to her body in a fashion befitting young royalty. Who was most startling was the servant who stood next to the queen, face a mask of impassive boredom, save for the twitch of irritation in the brow. Draco Malfoy, her fiance, stood with his white blond hair styled back, his tall body clad in a light suit and summer vest.

Hermione's breath caught and a smile grew on her lips automatically.

Luna nudged her in the ribs gently to get her attention. “Just past where the Queen of Hearts and the White Rabbit are standing is the Pool. You just need to fall into it and you'll leave Wonderland.”

True to her words, just behind Draco, who she assumed was the White Rabbit, and Lavender, the Queen, a copse of small trees acted as an archway to a shadowed grotto. The Pool of Tears rested in that grotto.

Hermione had just turned to ask Luna and the Knave how to get there when she heard Draco speak to the Queen. “My lady, I do believe some of the game balls have rolled into your rose bushes. Should I fetch them for you?” Her body froze and the three of them looked down to see a ball of hot pink next to Hermione's feet. She didn't look up until Draco's shadow passed over her, afraid someone else would come.

And afraid to see the lack of recognition she'd seen in the eyes of the others, Harry, George. But what startled her the most, was his harsh whisper.

“Hermione?!”

Hermione's head whipped up, the sound of her name a gift on his lips. She never thought she'd be so happy to hear him say it. His harsh voice kept her down towards the ground, though.

“You need to run for that Pool, now! This world, it's dark. Darker than it seems. Luna,” his eyes glanced over at the blank-faced witch behind Hermione, “shouldn't be playing with whatever magic brings her here and she shouldn't have gotten us involved.”

Hermione's brow scrunched in confusion. “How did Luna bring you here?”

“She had me look for some sort of creature-”

“A Snorkak baby!” Luna interrupted in a reprimanding whisper.

“-in her garden and I fell down some hole. Nearly broke my ankle!”

Draco bent down and snatched up the puffskein and turned to go. Before he made his way back, the Knave spoke up.

“I'll cause a distraction. You must all run.”

The Harry replica drew out his wand, a look of determination written on his face.

/*\

All Hermione remembered was the Knave running out at the queen, flashes of lilac and orange flying. Draco, white as a sheet, grabbing her hand and dragging her around the melee towards the trees and the Pool of Tears. Luna sitting down in the rose bush and summoning a cup of tea, watching the fight and mad scramble.

And then water filling her, her lungs burning, and the pool that never ended, didn't have a bottom or an edge to look forward to.

Clear air, her lungs taking deep breaths, hard wood beneath her. And sweet nothingness, to sooth the burn in her lungs and the buzz in her brain.

Hermione couldn’t have been out more than ten minutes. When she woke up, she was on her bed, but still wet and incredibly cold. When she opened her eyes, she saw Draco standing in her bathroom doorway, wearing the robe he kept at her place and drying his hair. She let out a hiss and shivered. Almost immediately, Draco came over and looked her over.

“We need to get these clothes off you, Hermione. You’ll catch your death.”

Draco only hesitated a moment before quickly taking off her shirt and jeans, the air hitting her wet skin like needle pricks, her skin growing goosebumps. Summoning her own robe, he wrapped her in it securely before lifting her into a sitting position and scooting himself behind her so that she could rest on him. He quickly summoned another towel and began drying her hair.

When she realized Draco thought her hair was sufficiently dry (and in a complete tangled mess), she coughed out, “Where have you been the last four days? In Wonderland?” She reached out for his hand, but he withdrew, only to shift them both. He positioned them so that they were both comfortably on her bed, under the covers, facing each other. He took her hand back up between both of his.

“Not all four. Just the last two. I’ll admit, our fight was mostly my fault. I realized I was scared shitless of being married and went back to the Manor. Got pissed and passed out. Woke up the next afternoon and Luna Floo’d me, asking if I could come over and help her. Said Potter was out of town and she needed a second person.

“Fell down whatever confounded rabbit hole she had in her yard and wouldn’t you believe it. That hole ended right in the Queen of Hearts’ garden. Nearly had my head chopped off by Lavender Brown of all people!” Draco wrinkled his nose at the thought and started playing with Hermione’s hair. “Took me all of five minutes to realize these weren’t the people I really knew and that I had to play a long. Ended up being the queen’s bitch boy.”

Hermione giggled as Draco dropped his head onto her shoulder and groaned dramatically.

“And the worst of it was, she wasn’t the Brown we know here, but she sure as hell is as air headed! All she could talk about was being bloody queen! And the fashions of Wonderland!”

Hermione snorted. “And to think, I was just shrunken down, met Wonderland’s George, Snape, and some odd version of Hagrid. Oh and Harry the Knave. I have no idea how long I was really down there, to be honest.”

“Not long enough, seeing as I was down there two days and didn’t hear a sound about you!”

“You poor baby!” Hermione laughed. She shifted closer to him, the chill in her bones nearly gone. “What did you spend your time doing?”

Draco sighed and ran a hand through his own hair, glancing up at the ceiling before meeting her eyes. “Honestly? Just thinking of how I needed to get back to you. I missed you terribly.”

“Suck up!” She pushed on his chest and rolled her eyes.

Grabbing up both hands again, he gave them a squeeze. “I’m serious. I’m not scared anymore, Hermione. I hope you didn’t cancel any of the flowers or the cake.”

Her eyes softened. “No. I was too depressed to do anything but mope, honestly.”

“And buy new bedroom accessories.”

Her cheeks flushed, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

“Oh, the mirror? Luna gave me that. It’s actually how she got me into Wonderland. We should probably do something to make sure one of us doesn’t fall in again.”

“I don’t see that being a problem.”

Hermione turned to see what he was talking about and saw the mirror had cracked. A vertical crack right of center, from top to bottom, marred the glass decoration.

“Can I tell you something Luna mentioned about the mirror?”

Draco nuzzled his face into her shoulder again. “Can it wait until after a nap?”

Hermione turned all the way so that she could fit herself in with Draco, wrapping herself up in his arms. With a smirk, she nearly ground her behind into his pelvis, making him moan. “I suppose. Let’s see how things go in a few hours.”

“You’re damn lucky I’m exhausted or I’d punish you for that.”

 

4\. Back Home

Hermione woke up warm, rested, and hyper aware of a pair of hands running across her back. Snuggling back into her covers, she tried to ignore the goosebumps that rose on her skin and the chuckle behind her.

“Wake up, Hermione.”

She groaned into her pillow instead, smiling at Draco’s dramatic sigh.

The hands on her back slowly made a trail downwards, flipped the covers off the two of them, and stopped at her hips. Her bare hips.

He’d taken all of her clothes off while she slept.

When he pulled her close, she could feel his erection jutting into her behind, eager to pick up where her quick tease had left off. They both groaned at the contact, the days almost a tangible obstacle since they’d last been together. An obstacle they were both very eager to beat.

His hot hands roamed across the skin of her belly, skimming the underside of her breasts. One hand stayed north, slowly inching its way to her nipples, the other traveled south to cup her mound, which was already slick.

“When I thought about how I would never be able to have this,” his voice ghosted over he ear, a finger dipping into her center, “to taste this. How I thought about never hearing your breathy moans, your smart little mouth, that smile…” His fingers tweaked her left nipple. “Even that ridiculous twitch in your eye when you yell at me...I felt like some part of me had died.”

Draco moved his lips from the shell of her ear to the pulse point in her neck. “You’re mine. And I will never give that up for any reason.” A quick nip. He soothed it with the flat of his tongue, sending a shiver all the way through her. Reflexively, Hermione pushed her hips back, causing Draco to let out a whoosh of breath and grip her breast tighter.

“Draco…” She couldn’t help the way his name came out in a moan, it was reflex, ingrained in her memory, knowing just how to get him wound up. Her ear was filled with his breath, his hands trailed along her skin.

“Roll over, ‘Mione,” he whispered. His hands gently guided her to lay on her belly and automatically, her body came to position, on her knees, resting on her arms. Shivers of expectation running down her spine.

She could feel him hovering over her, the heat from his body radiating. And then, his hands, ghosting over her arms, drawing small circles. Slowly, his fingers made their way up to her shoulders, leaving trails of goosebumps, marking his path.

Two fingers at the base of her neck pressed down and made a slow, hot trail down her spine while his other hand buried itself in her curls. She could feel the flush from her cheeks heating up and tried to hide her face in the pillow.

“Ah ah. I love that flush and I want to hear all those noises your delectable little mouth makes,” Draco whispered, using the leverage of his hand in her hair to gently pull her head up. He dropped his lips to follow the trail his fingers had made along her spine.

Hermione’s hips swayed, seeking more attention.

“I love how eager you are.” Draco brought a hand to her dripping center and easily slipped a finger into her channel. “Beyond ready for me. What should I do?”

Hermione moaned and pushed her hips back, wanting more contact. “More, Draco.”

“More what? Should I play with these pert breasts?” His hand left her hair and tweaked a nipple. Meanwhile, his finger slowly moved in and out of her heat. “Should I leave my mark all over this smooth skin?” He licked the flesh of her hip, nibbled. Two marks blossomed. He grinned when Hermione let out a sob of frustration.

“Do you know what you do to me, Hermione?” Draco added a second finger and continued to move them slowly, torturing her. Hermione’s muscles tensed at the teasing Draco was subjecting her to. She was panting heavily, her mind focused on the movement of his fingers.

And then Draco pressed his length along the crease of her ass.

“This is me, Hermione. And this is what you do to me.”

She moaned. “Stop teasing me, you ass!” Panting, she ground herself against him in retaliation, taking satisfaction in his swearing.

Hermione couldn’t help but to moan at the loss when Draco pulled his fingers from her center. The loss was a completely bereft feeling, bringing tears to her eyes. “Draco Malfoy, if you do not fuck me right this instant….”

Her words were silenced by Draco, who buried himself to the hilt. She groaned at the sudden sensation. “Such a bossy swot,” he grunted as he settled inside her. Bracing his arms on either side of her, he gave a shallow thrust once, twice.

“Hermione, look.”

She arched her back and buried her face in the pillow instead. Above her, Draco groaned and pinched her nipples.

“Look!” He turned her head and she was treated with the sight of the two of them, together, joined. In that blasted mirror.

Draco pulled her upright, the two of them flush against one another. Hermione’s eyes were hooded, her breasts heaved with her panting. Behind her, Draco’s arms were wrapped around her stomach, flexing with the effort to hold still. His head bent down, leaving kisses on her shoulder as he watched her reaction.

“We are perfect together, Hermione. We fit in every way imaginable.”

Hermione moaned and pulled his head in for a bruising kiss. “Draco,” she whispered. “Please. Now.” She could feel him grin against her lips.

“So bossy.”

Draco situated her back on her arms and knees and molded himself against her back. “Mine,” he grunted, pulling out and thrusting in completely.

Hermione could only moan in reply.

Her fiance began to truly thrust in earnest, spurred on by the heat of her center. When he brought a hand down to pinch her clit, his ears were greeted with sobs of “more, more!” followed by her climax.

Still thrusting, Draco groaned as her muscles tightened, beckoning him to come with her. “Herm...Hermione...I love you.”

Hermione collapsed, exhausted from the force of her orgasm. Breathing heavily into her pillow, she could feel the warmth from Draco spilling into her, marking her for himself. Above her, the equally exhausted blond groaned and collapsed on her back gracelessly. With giggle and a shove, she pushed him off of her into the spot next to her and draped herself across his chest. Placing a kiss on his collarbone, Hermione smiled up at him.

“We do need to talk more, you know.”

“I know, I know.” Draco sighed.

“But I am glad to have you back home.”

Draco took her hand in his and kissed her fingers. “Me too.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> My prompt for the challenge was: What does Hermione find down the rabbit hole/through the looking glass?
> 
> So I took elements of various Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass references, including the recent 2010 movie, Disney, the novels, and the Frank Beddor series "The Looking Glass Wars", which is where the Pool of Tears comes from.


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